


Var Lath Suledin

by GrumpyKitten



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ancient Elvhen, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Attempted Seduction, But HE IS MY DOUCHE!, Dalish Elves, Demons, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Eluvians, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Fan'Harel is a douche, Fix-It, Friendship, Heartbreak, I hope, I'll try to make it not to make it too depressing, Like.. Seriously slow burn, Love, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Post-Trespasser DLC, Slow Burn, Swearing, The Fade, The Veil (Dragon Age), and i love him, english is not my first language, lonely, please be kind, really very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 13:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5930452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyKitten/pseuds/GrumpyKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After disbanding the Inquisition, Lavellan sets out on a mission to find a solution for Solas' plans to destroy the world. She is determined to find a way that will create a world where the Veil is torn down, without letting Thedas burn in the chaotic aftermath.  (Disclaimer: tags, characters, rating and warnings might change as the story progresses.)</p><p>I have tried to keep my Lavellan's description as neutral al possible, so everybody can imagine their own Lavellan in the story. If you have no Female Lavellan or wish to see my inspiration for the story, here is a link to pictures of mine:). </p><p>http://imgur.com/a/BcK7Z</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I used Ghi'lan as a title a Dalish would use instead of 'my lady'. It means guide/teacher.
> 
> I took it from the amazingly helpful post Project Elvhen by FenxShiral (http://archiveofourown.org/works/3553883).

“S...Solas!!” The word caught in her throat, her burning lungs had a hard time providing enough air to yell.

Every night, when he had visited her dreams and ran when she tried to talk to him, she had let him. Not wanting to push him, let him take the lead.

But not tonight. She’d had a rotten day and all she had wanted was some quiet time to herself. When she hadn’t been able to find this in the waking world, she’d gone into the fade. But as soon as the green mist started to appear, she’d spotted the six red glowing eyes in the distance. If he wanted to watch her so badly, he was going to fucking talk to her while doing so.

And so Lavellan had began the chase. 

She only absentmindedly noticed the fade’s rapidly changing landscapes, which went from open meadows she vaguely recognised from her youth, past barren wastelands with scattered little heaps of burning corpses (ancient battlefields, she presumed), and through a thickly grown forest where branches caught on her nightclothes. 

When her foot caught behind a tree stump, she fell. Her hands taking the majority of the damage, but her ankle had twisted painfully. She tried to stand, but found that she couldn’t put much weight on it. She knew it was a figment of her imagination and if she willed her spectral body in doing so, she would be able to continue the chase. This was the fade after all. But she just was too damn tired. 

“Stop.. Running... You… COWARD!!” Her breath heaving with exhaustion and angry unspent tears. 

She had been fighting for almost four years now. First Corypheus and the breach, then she stopped a Qunari invasion and uncovered her lover’s true identity. After that she had been fighting her friends, trying to change their minds and showing them Solas wasn’t the enemy. Trying to convince them to help her in her quest to find a peaceful solution to all this. It had been hard, every step of the way. Seeing herself alienated from her most trusted companions was painful, but she would have managed. For him. If he would just stop running and let her help. 

“Please!” Tears starting to shed down her cheeks in earnest now. “Solas!”

But there was no answer. By now his trail would have gone cold and there would be no way of tracking him down. She let out a frustrated cry. She wondered if she would ever be able to get through his thick skull and convince him that she didn’t care who he was or had been. That she would be able to forgive him for the lies. And that she truly believed there was a way to bring down the Veil, without destroying all of Thedas. 

The world had existed thousands of years without the Veil, it would be able to do so again. There were just a lot of preparations to be made, to avoid the world falling into chaos. But they could do it, together. 

She believed this with all her heart. But the man she loved, was the most stubborn elf this world had ever seen. 

Angrily she put all her strength into a punch at the stem of a large trees. On impact she heard her knuckles crack.

The pain snapped her out of the fade and back into her small uncomfortable bed in the abandoned Hessarian camp that the, officially disbanded, inquisition had been hiding in lately. 

If someone would that told her four years ago that she, a proud Dalish elf who loved nothing more than sleeping outside under the moonlight sky, would’ve grown attached to the all-too-human luxuries Skyhold had brought, she would have said they were crazy. But now, having to do without it for almost a year, she missed it. She had grown to love the old fort, high in the snowy mountains. 

She was lying awake on a military stretcher Cullen had been kind enough to supply her with before he went back to his family. Her eyes glanced over the mold eaten beams of the ceiling, which had cracks wide enough to see the constellation of Servani. The irony of waking up to the manifestation of ‘the chained man’, made her grimace. Although she was sure the ancient people of Trevinter had meant something entirely different, she felt chained, captured in a seemingly hopeless situation. 

As predictable for the Storm Coast, it was raining. The rhythmic sound of the raindrops dripping through the cracks of her humble bedroom, falling in ever growing puddles on the floor. It was oddly calming to listen to. 

The abandoned camp was in a too worse shape to be called ‘ideal’, but it’s secure placement with the mountains at its back and sturdy walls encompassing the rest made it the safest place she could think of when they were forced to leave skyhold behind. 

Deciding to make it an early morning, instead of going back to sleep, she stepped out of bed and changed into her armor. It was one of the few things she had managed to hold onto from her days as Inquisitor. And even though it started to show signs of the many battles she had fought in it, it was comfortable. The leather supple and moved with her body like a second skin.

As she had grown accustomed to, she would start her day skirting the surroundings of the camp. Looking for darkspawn or deepstalkers that had crawled out of the caves and had wandered too close to her new homebase.

When she passed through the wooden entrance, her fingers grazed passed the scorch marks Dorians flames had left there many months ago. A feeling of melancholy crept up on her. She missed her old friends. 

Most of them had moved on with their lives, after she’d announced to the Exalted Council that the inquisition would cease to exist. And she couldn’t fault them in that. Her mission was a near impossible one, and she couldn’t have expected anyone to join her. Only a handful of  
old inquisition members had chosen to follow her, and she had found a few new recruits along the way. The small group that made out her new companions, had never breached the ‘polite acquaintance’ distance. She didn’t find the same warmth and sense of belonging among her them, as she did with her old ones. She guessed it was because these people had never known her before she became Inquisitor and had kept their respectful distance. Or maybe she was just too damaged to ever let anyone that close again. 

The rain seeped through her armor in a matter of minutes and the cold ocean wind chilled her to the bone. But looking out over the stormy waters of the Waking Sea emptied her mind too much to notice. It’s rugged beauty still gave her pause. Waves crashing against rock chipping of little bits each time they hit, shaping it, molding it, bending it to their will. The never ending battle between two forces of nature had weakened the Veil, leaving a tingly sensation on her skin. It made her feel strong and powerful. 

She found one small group of wandering deepstalkers she disposed of quick and easy; her lighting spell given extra potency by the added electric currents caused by the rain. When she was satisfied the area was clear, she made back to camp. 

The sun was fighting to rise behind the thick layers of clouds in the sky. It was early, still. She might still be in time for breakfast.

She approaches the main gate, when her attention was drawn to a soft sound, making the hairs on her neck stand up. Her skilled ear immediately picking apart the sound. Silent footsteps, four feet. So two people? No, the rhythm is wrong. Four legs, than. Too soft to be a bear, too heavy to be a deer. 

Slowly she turned around and tried to locate the source of the sound. She had to determine if it might be a threat. Maybe she overlooked something while patrolling.

Her hand instinctively moved towards her staff, while already drawing on energy of the Fade to ready her magic; small sparks of energy tickling her skin.

The sounds had changed. Scratching, scrambling nails on treebark. Her eyes scanning the sparsely wooded field in front of her. 

A branch cracked above her head. It climbed a tree then. A predator? 

She looked up, ready to send a barrage of electricity upwards towards the animal looming over her head. But she stops herself, right on the last second.

In the tree above her lies a cat. It’s stretched out lazily on the arm of an old oak. One of his hind legs dangling in mid-air, giving Lavellan the strong impression he might fall if he’s not carefull.

It looks like one those fashionable fluffy cats, which are all the rage in the Orlesian Court right now. But bigger. Much bigger.

He stretches again and jawns, showing two large fangs sticking out from under his upper lip, too big to properly fit in his mouth. Which would have been threatening, were it not that the rain had reduced his large size to a shivering, wet heap of drenched silvery fur and big orange eyes.

“Hey there, big guy.” She extends her hand upwards, so he can sniff at her fingers. He makes a content purring sound and pushes his head into her head, but seems to have forgotten about his hind leg, which is still hanging off the side of the branch. With a heavy thump he lands his belly on the moist forest floor. He stands, shakes his head and then meows, raising his tail proudly. As if to try and give the sincere impression this had always been his plan.

Levellan giggles. “I thought cats were supposed to always land on their feet!”

He ignores her jibe and start rubbing his head against her hip. 

“What is it? Do you want to come inside? We have a fire, you know. It will help drying your fur.” Gently she scratches the wet hair on the top of his head.

Walking towards the entrance, he followed behind her. The animal doesn’t seem hesitant moving into a small courtyard, which is now bustling with morning activities. When he eyes an open door into a cabin, he trots off. She stares after him for a moment. When she sees him rolling onto his back next to a fireplace, a four paws extended, she smiles.

\-------------

It was well past midday when Lavellan was sitting in the courtyard. She was trying to keep her armor from turning into useless rags by sewing on new patches of leather on the places it was wearing dangerously thin. 

Making the most of the scarce moments without rain, the kitchen staff had set up a fire outside, filling the air with the smell of roasted chicken.

She had spent the rest of her morning debating their next course of action with Loranil, a Dalish elf she had recruited as an agent for the Inquisition. He had been one of the few who had decided to stay with her. He had become invaluable to her organization, taking on the role of her new spymaster.  
Leliana had stayed for a month or two, but mostly to try and change Lavellan’s mind. When it became apparent to both of them that wasn’t going to happen, they came to the mutual decision that it would be best for Leliana to leave. 

Loranil had dug up new information on Solas his movements. His agents had spotted Solas’ scouts following the West Road and eventually crossing the Drakon River, near South Reach. 

“Ghi’lan, my agents have strong suspicions he is going to the Brecilian Forest”. Loranil’s expression brimming with excitement. Standing tall, but the gawky way he held his limbs betrayed his still young age. 

When he’d first offered his services to her after the disbandment of the inquisition she’d been hesitant. Doubting his maturity and not wanting to be responsible for taking away the last signs of innocence that grazed his face. But he had proved himself very capable indeed. Managing agent’s, some a great deal older than him, with easy and sincere enthusiasm. He had earned their respect by, in the first months after the start of their new organization, standing at the face of the action. Shoulder to shoulder with his men; infiltrating, collecting information and gaining secret allies. 

She looked at the twinkle in his eyes and almost envied him. The world was still simple to him; ideals still standing strong and right and wrong easily distinguished. 

The boy was a proud member of the Dalish, and she could only imagine the wonder and amazement he’d felt, chasing an proven-not-to-be-dead Elvhen Deity. Before meeting Solas, she would have probably felt the same. 

“I know of a clan, nearby. My old clan used to trade with them a lot and they have always been on good terms. They will give us a place to stay. W..Would you choose to pursue this lead, of course.” Although he tried to contain his exuberance, the glint in his eyes betrayed him. They were closing in, and he knew it. 

The new information had kept her occupied, all through the day. Unsure of the wise course of action. Her entire body was aching with the desire to follow him. Having the possible location to his whereabouts made waiting around almost unbearable. But, cornering a wolf on the run was rarely a good idea. Besides, even if she would find him, she still hadn’t found an alternative plan to persuade him with. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by an enthusiastic voice calling out to her.

“Quizzy! How’s the arm doing today?”

Lavellan looks up from her sewing to see a dwarf walking towards her.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been called ‘Quizzy’.” Her words hadn’t meant to be chastising, but when she saw Dagna’s shocked expression, she regretted them immediately.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.. I mean.. I didn’t.. I wouldn’t.. You see, I’ve been spending so much time around Sera.. And she.. Well.. She always calls you..” The dwarf let’s out a sigh and bows her head. “I’m sorry, my lady.” 

“Dagna, there’s no harm done.” A fond smile plays on her lips, trying to reassure the girl. “And, since you asked, I’m getting more and more used to having this thing attached to my arm.” She gave the girl a quick wink and Dagna returns the gesture by smiling broadly.

“Can I have a look?” The girl looks expectantly at Lavellan’s gloved hand. When she had first returned to the Winter Palace after losing it, she had gotten all sorts of looks from her friends and followers. Ranging from pity, to shock and a even a few badly disguised looks of horror. But not from Dagna. As soon as she showed her stump, the dwarven girl's eyes had lit up with excitement, and she had let out a small cry of glee. “We will make you a new, better, one!” She had said.

And so Dagna and the elven mage Minaeve had spent weeks working tirelessly, crafting and enchanting a prosthetic arm. 

The first few attempts haven’t been a great success, with gear springing loose at the smallest movements or enchantments going awry, making the arm move on its own. But after some heavy finetuning, they had performed a miracle and created an extension that could be attached to Lavellan’s arm and which she could control with her mana. Giving her almost full functionality.

Dagna inspects the prosthesis closely and lets out an approving hum. “It looks good, right? Wiggle your fingers for me, please.”

After complying and receiving a satisfied nod, the elf asks: “Have you heard from Sera lately?”

The dwarf’s face lit up by the mentioning of the name. “Oh yes, my lady. She is doing great. She’s very busy, though. With the Red Jennies and all. So, we don’t see each other much. But we write as often as we can!”

“That great to hear, Dagna.” Trying not to sound too hopeful she added: “Have you made any progress in your studies of the Veil?”

The girl cast down her eyes, all eagerness falling from her face. “I’m really sorry my lady, but no, we haven’t found anything new. It’s still very much a mystery to us. I should have studied the anchor more thoroughly, when you still had it. Maybe then we would have figured out how to even puncture the Veil, at least.”

The elf let out a sigh, she had been expecting this answer. It had been the same every day, since she had appointed Dagna and Minaeve to start their studies. But still, every day it came as a disappointment. She hid it well though. Not wanted to discourage the dwarven girl. “Oh well, you’ll find something, eventually. I know it.” She gave Dagna an encouraging nod. “Say hi to Sera for me, would you?”

“Yes, my lady. I will.” The girl tried for an awkward unpracticed bow and turned to leave.

Leaving Lavellan’s mind to wander back to the subject of her wolf in the Brecilian forest. She needed to come up with a better solution to just tearing down the Veil and leaving the world to burn in its wake, and she needed to come up with it fast. 

\-------------

The Fade was darker then usual when she stepped in, after finally falling asleep after hours of restless turning. The misty clouds hung low to the ground, obscuring her vision and making it impossible to see further than a few feet out. Her only light source being the black city floating high up in the sky. It’s eerie green light strong enough to pierce the thick mist.

She had grown accustomed to the Fade shaping to her mood, so when she stepped out into the raw Fade she was immediately on her guard.

Making her way through the fog, she tried to find a vantage point from where she could inspect her surroundings. There was an anxious vibe filling the air around her, putting all her senses in overdrive. She wanted to get out of here and fast.

She stumbled her way forward. The uneven ground forcing her to mind where she placed her feet, making it hard to keep a steady pace.

After pushing forward, for what felt like hours and still seeing no change around her, she started to wonder whether she was going in circles. She had tried to use the green, floating rock above her as a means to navigate, but the Fade was notorious for it’s twisting and winding paths. There was no way to be sure. She had no just other than to just keep moving and hope for the best. 

Finally the mist started to clear a little, hanging lower to the ground. But the sense of unease only grew, somehow.

A moment later she stepped out into a clearing, which seemed to have appeared out of thin air. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw that the mist had disappeared and made place for an overgrown forest. It’s branches knitting closely into each other, making it impossible to turn back. 

The air was heavy and damp, making it hard to breathe. Tiny droplets started to form on her skin that seemed to singe with static electricity. 

This was not good, not good at all. 

In the middle of the clearing stood a large mirror, giving off a soft brimming blue light. She recognised it directly; an Eluvian. 

Beside it stood two stone carved shapes of howling wolves. They were covered in moss and looked untouched for centuries. Their eyes seemed to be alive and staring at her intently. 

She felt a shapeless beckon, urging her to move closer. To come forward; pleading, seducing. She fought it and placed for her feet firmly on the grassy ground.

The surface of the eluvian began to shimmer and she reached back for her staff. Only to find her back empty. This part of the Fade was not one of her own creation, here she wouldn’t be able to will things into being. 

Shit…

When she looked at the figure coming through the mirror, her heart started pounding. Trying to leap out of her chest and go to the place it belonged.

“Don’t you dare take his shape, demon!” she hissed.

“Vhenan, please..” One soft plea nearly her undoing. Hearing his voice again after all this time, was almost enough to make her defenses crumble. Almost.

“NO! You are not him. Leave this place. Now!”

The figure stepped forward, out from the backlight coming from still glimmering surface of the eluvian. His face was the exactly how she remembered it. And she couldn’t help her eyes, appreciating every line and curve.

He was beautiful.

“Please, my love. It’s me. I have come to tell you I’ll join you. I’ve realised you are the only thing that matters.”

She wanted to believe so bad, it hurt. “Please, stop it!” Tears started to pool in her eyes. Their pressure pushing at the back of her throat. 

He took another step forwards. When he observed she didn’t move, he started towards her. 

A slow and sprawling pace; swaggering almost. His head held high in a confident tilt, but eyes filled with love. Or a sick and twisted imitation of love, at least. It almost didn’t matter. 

She had to brace herself, willing her feet to stay on their place. Her fist clenched around the fabric of her nightclothes. 

This is not him. 

This is not him.

This.

Is.

Not.

Him.

A mantra she had to keep repeating over and over. 

He was wearing the same armour he’d worn the last time she’d seen him. In a situation painfully similar, but twisted into the best possible outcome she could think off.

He looked regal; every bit the god history made him out to be. 

Her attention momentarily drawn from his face to the movement at is hip; a foci.

“Vhenan, let me come with you. Ask me to come and I’ll join you.” His voice no longer pleading, but covered in honey, tantalizing her. Telling her everything she wanted to hear. It was intoxicating.

He was close now, so close she could touch him. Somehow she forced her arms to stay at her sides. Nails digging so deep in her own skin, in the waking world she would’ve drawn blood.

The figure closes the final distance between them, cocking his head. His mouth hovers so close to hers she can feel his breath caressing her face. A quick flick of his tongue wets his lips. The effect is enthralling. 

She stares at his mouth, her gaze fixed. The need for the feel of him, his taste, his smell, his touch, nearly taking over. She had buried all these desires deeply, safely locked away, and now they came pouring out with a vengeance. Crashing their way back into her consciousness, taking with them all her carefully put up barricades. 

All she has to do it step on her toes and reach him. All she had to do was just give in.

“My love.. Just say yes. I know you want to.” His voice a hoarse purr. 

She can feel her resolve crumble and leans forward. Her hands placed on either side of his face, thumbs caressing his cheeks. His hand moved to her back pushing her flush against him. His gaze staring at her mouth. A crooked smile breaks on his lips, making her already pounding heart flutter even faster. 

She feels her lungs taking in deep and ragged breaths. Gods, she missed him. She closed her eyes, ready to fully give herself over to the sensation.

Her hip brushes against the foci.

A foci.

That’s it!

Her eyes snap open. “No.” The words come out strong and determined. 

The demon’s mask began to shimmer, a flash of Desire and back to Solas.

“No, I won’t let you in.” 

Another flash of the demon’s real face, longer this time. 

“Leave!”

Twisting and turning, the demon screeches. It starts to collapse in on its itself. A long bony arm stretching out from the writhing mass, flailing helplessly, reaching for her. Long nails scratching her cheek. With a final tortured howl the demon disappeared and she opened her eyes, finding herself staring at a familiar cracked ceiling. 

She was back in her bed in the Hessarian camp. A heavy weight pressing her down, but somehow it didn’t feel alarming.

When she looked down she sees a large silver paw resting on her chest. The giant cat took up more than half the bed and was snoring softly, his whiskers vibrating with every escaping breath. 

Judging by the moon’s position, it was around midnight. Everybody would still be sleeping. She would have wait till tomorrow before springing her plan into action.

She eyes the bale of hay in the corner and wondered if she should make that her bed tonight. She decided against it.

Turning to her side, she snuggled deeply into the animal’s fur. 

“You’re a horrible, terrible beast.” she murmured with a smile on her face. When she fell back to sleep, for the first time in a long time, her dreams were quiet and peaceful.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a quick update :) Hope you'll enjoy chapter two as well!
> 
> And again, if you find any spelling or grammar mistakes, please let me know so I can correct them.^^

“And where did you say you saw them last?”

“At Mythal’s temple.”

“But, you don’t know where they are now?”

“No, sadly I don’t”

“So, they could be literally anywhere in the world?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“And you want me to find them? With no clues to start the search?”

The exchange would have been comical, were it not for the pressing nature of the matter.

Feeling a bit embarrassed Lavellan cast her gaze down to the map lying uselessly on the table. “I’m sorry to put this on you, Loranil. But I don’t really know what more to tell you, other than that this is really important.”

“But.. But, Ghi’lan. I wouldn’t even know where to start. Other than the stories you told about the ancient Elvhen guarding the well of sorrows, I know nothing about them.”

“I can tell you what they look like?” she offered, giving him an apologetic smile.”Please, you have to try. We need their help.”

The elven boy’s cheeks were flushed red and he pursed his lips in frustration. She could see he was conflicted. The Dalish girl in her understood this conflict all too well. Of course he wanted to find the possibly only living group of Elvhen. The Dalish were always eager to learn about their past. 

But she knew she was asking him to go on a wild goosechase, potentially wasting what precious little resources they had. It also meant spreading their forces thin, if they would also have his agents watching Solas’ activity near the Brecilian Forest.

“Loranil, we need their help in finding another one of those orbs. Dagna and Minaeve have come up empty in their studies for months now. This could be a breakthrough!”

He remained silent, staring out of the window. “Without any idea where to start or where to go, I have no idea what I’m sending my man into, I have no idea what they we’ll be up against. I don’t like sending them in completely unprepared.” 

“I understand, but please. You have to try.” She hated the idea of sending their agent’s blindly into possible danger. But is she didn’t come up with a way to change Solas’ mind, it would mean the end of it all. Regardless, what she asked of him created a knot of anxiety in her stomach.

The boy let out a deep shy and let one hand slip over his face. Squeezing the bridge of his nose, he answered: “Yes, Ghi’lan. We will try. Whatever you wish.” Although his words spoke acceptance, she could she he was agitated. “I’ll sent some scouts to check with the clans, to see if they know something”

There was an uneasy silence between them, both acutely aware of the possible jeopardy she’d placed their men in. But this had been the best lead she’d had so far and she wasn’t in the position to ignore it. 

“Thank you, Loranil. I know this must be hard for you.”

His cheeks turned a deep red. “Don’t thank me yet, Ghi’lan.” He started gathering his stuff; slipping back in the harness carrying his double bladed daggers. “We haven’t achieved anything.” 

“Please, don’t worry too much. I know this will work.” Her voice was sympathetic, but she couldn’t fully disguise the pain her order gave her.

He gave her a taut smile. “I wouldn’t dream of questioning your orders, Ghi’lan. Besides, my men knew what they signed up for.” He thumped his fist against his chest and bowed. Waiting to be dismissed. 

The new formality to his posture made her think she’d just placed a bigger distance between them. The sense of crashing loneliness almost sweeping her of her feet.

They concluded their morning briefing with polite goodbyes and she started making her way towards the little house that took up the function of library. She still had some old tomes left, in which she hoped to find some information of value.

When she entered the courtyard the hunters just walked through the main entrance, struggling to carry a large elk through the gate. The elk’s feet were tied to a pole.The long red gash at it’s neck, made his head flop limply. It was a good kill, that would feed everybody in camp. It’s fur large enough to clothe at least four people. 

Padding along side them was the cat. Without the rain drenching his fur, his hair stood around him like a halo of fluff. Bouncing gently up and down with every stride he took.

He spotted her and his tail went up in a silent greeting. He came towards her until he stood besides her leg and pushed his head against her side. 

She smiled down at him fondly. “Hey Beast, have you been hunting?” The only answer she got was a content purr when she scratched behind his ear. 

The lead huntsmen started to approach her. It was a very tall and sturdy looking human. The bow he carried on his back, dwarfed by the broad expanse of his shoulder. The knife strapped to his belt dripping blood; he’d been the one striking the killing blow, she assumed. 

He was a native to the Storm Coast and one of the few human that joined her cause. She suspected he, and a few others that seemed to be his friends, had only joined them because of the relative safety and security her small operation provided, and not because they had been greatly idealistically inclined. But it hadn’t mattered. His skills and knowledge of the area had proven incredibly useful. 

When she stood in front of her he asked: “My lady, is he yours?”

She thought about that for a moment, the human idea of ‘ownership’ of an animal still strange to her, even after all the years she’d lived among them now. But even in human terms she couldn’t claim he was hers. Technically, he had chosen her. “No, I don’t own him. He is here as…. As an agent.” 

The hunter looked slightly perplexed for a moment, but recovered quickly. “Well, anyway. He has been a great help to us. An amazing nose for sniffing out game, he has. Although the actual hunting, we had to do ourselves. Started scratching his nails on some tree, while he had us running our asses off.” 

Beast had dropped himself on his back, showing of his soft looking belly and made little chattering noises. Looking very pleased with himself. 

The hunter huffed. “Lazy, that’s what he is.” The happy crinkles around his eyes betrayed that he had been utterly charmed by the large animal, who was now leisurely pawing at the loose hanging leather band, that she used to tie her staff on her back, when she was away from camp. 

The man guaffed a silent laugh and with a formal bow the hunter turned around, checking back in with his crew.

She squats and starts ruffling the hair on the animals exposed stomach. She couldn’t explain the natural affection she felt for him, but it had been there since the first second and it only seemed to grow. Perhaps it was because he was a ball of fluff, the size of a small mountain lion. 

Even though her mood was still heavy because her morning meeting with Loranil, she couldn’t help but smile at him. And seeing the hunter’s reaction, it seemed she wasn’t the only one. “So, you were a great help, huh? Let’s see if you can help me find something interesting in my books, today.”

She walked towards her cabin a little taller than usual. Despite everything, despite the necessary risks she had to force upon her men, today was a good day. Today they had finally come one step closer to a solution.

\-------------

Maybe she had been over enthusiastic, because days turned into weeks and weeks turned into almost three months without any liberating news. 

They received updates every few days or so, and they had served really well in easing her and Loranil’s troubled mind, knowing their agent’s hadn’t come across any considerable danger. But none of the messages had contained any vital information and it started wearing on her patience.

In these three months Lavellan and Beast established a pleasant routine, which helped settling her impatience a bit.

When they woke up, they would take the early morning patrol together. After breakfast, he would walk her to the front door of the make-shift war room. While she did her daily briefing with Loranil, Dagna and Minaeve, he would go with the hunters. Tracking down the juiciest prey he could find, to lead the hunters on it’s trail. He’d then continue to idly climb a tree and wait for the huntsman to make the kill. After which he’d follow them back to camp, to join Lavellan in the library. 

At night they would curl up together on the tiny stretcher, taking turns in being the little spoon.

Her nights were relatively quiet. Only on a few occasions did she sense Solas’ presence in her dreams but, predictably, every time she’d turn around to look at him he would disappear.

This morning however, she woke up to Minaeve knocking on her door. “Ghi’lan, please wake up. We have news!”

The elven scholar’s voice filled with anticipation. 

Lavellan was up and dressed within a minute. “Tell me, what is it?!” 

“Please, Loranil and Dagna are waiting, we should join them.”

Opening up the door to the war room she saw Dagna shifting expectantly. A grin from ear to ear as soon as the girl saw her entering. “Quizzy! One of the agents has returned with new information on our Golden Oldies! That’s good, isn’t it?” 

Looking over to Loranil and seeing worry etched on his face, Lavellan said: “That depends on what it is.” She caught the elven boy's gaze and held it, giving an encouraging nod.

“Ghi’lan, my agents have located a clan just north of the Frostback Mountains who..”

“Who have seen the ancient elves, actually seen them! Talked to them as well” Minaeve interrupted. The normally so cool and collected woman, now bouncing up and down. “Can you imagine what that must have been like? All the things they could have learned about our history?!”

Lavellan had a hard time not looking skeptical. She still remember meeting Abelas and his sentinels, as if it happened yesterday. They had been cold and arrogant, and seemed in no way inclined to share even the tiniest sliver of the wealth of knowledge they undoubtedly possessed.

“Did they say where they were going?” 

“The keeper wouldn’t say, Ghi’lan. He refused to tell anymore to my agent. He wanted to speak to you.” Loranil started fidgeting his sleeve, tension building up in his shoulders.

“What is it? Do you think it’s a trap?” Crossing her arms and tapping a finger on her elbow, she looked at him impatiently. Her patience reaching its limit. She wanted to pack her back and grab her horse immediately. 

Minaeve answered instead: “No, it’s definitely not a trap. No one would dare to hurt you, in fact, they would make sure you’d be in nothing but perfect health while near them. No one would want to invoke Fen’Harel’s wrath.”

“Fen’Harel’s wrath? What is that supposed to mean?!” 

An awkward silence filled the room. Loranil’s cheeks burning with red stains, staring at the floor.

“You don’t know.” It started out as a question, but halfway through ended in a statement. Minaeve gave Loranil an incredulous look. “You haven’t told her?!”

“Loranil!” Dagna looked at the male elf in disbelief. “She needs to know these things!”

“Haven’t told me what? Loranil, what are they talking about?”

Loranil’s shoulders sagged, his face twisted in an apologetic expression. “Ghi’lan, I didn’t know how to tell you. Ir abelas. I just.. I just didn’t want you to feel hurt. But the Dalish have been.. Conflicted about you.” He looked absolutely miserable.

She looked at all three her advisors, But their faces gave nothing else away than awkward tension. “Conflicted? Conflicted how?” 

When she saw the boy struggling to find the right words she said: “Spit it out, Loranil.”

“They.. They call you..” When the words stuck in his throat, he turned a hopeful gaze to Minaeve.

“Coward..” Dagna muttered under her breath.

Minaeve gave the boy a look of disdain and straightened. “They call you Fen’Harel’asha.” she said matter of factly.

For a moment she could hear an ocean roaring in her ears. “Fen’Harel’s wife? But why?” A quick glance at Loranil told her he would still be unable to give her a straight answer, so she turned her gaze to Minaeve instead.

“‘Why’ isn’t the important question in this matter, Ghi’lan. The question you should be asking is what this means.” 

“So, what does it mean?!” Lavellan could feel the anger rising in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t want a new title, especially not one that added insult to injury. And she really didn’t want one given to her by the Dalish; her own people. 

“The Keepers and Hahren have agreed on this title last Artlathvhen. But they haven’t agreed on whether this means they should fear, pity or revere you. Some even say that your words can’t be trusted at all. That Fen’Harel has bewitched you, that you are his latest trick.” Minaeve gave her a sad look and when she extended her arm, it looked like she might place a hand on Lavellan shoulder. At the last moment the scholar seemed to change her mind. Dropping her fist lamely to her side. “I’m sorry. I wish I could’ve told you something different.” 

For a long moment Lavellan remained quiet, trying to get a hold on the storm raging through her body. Stop the electrical sparks from crawling over her skin. How could they?! How could they think something like that. All she had ever done was to protect her people; help them build a better life! And this is how they repaid her? Reducing her to some false deity’s puppet? A silly little girl, tricked by the Dread Wolf. She felt as if her heart had been ripped out and torn in to pieces. 

“It doesn’t matter.” The words came out as a hoarse rasp. Scraping her throat she tried again. “It doesn’t matter. We need that information, no matter what. I will leave first thing tomorrow morning.” She gazed up at her advisors and saw a mixture of pity and sorrow in their expressions. She choose to ignore it. “ Loranil, Minaeve, you’ll come with me. Dagna, you stay here. We need someone in charge.”

Without saying anything else she left the cabin and walked through the courtyard. She had to get out of here. The walls felt like they were closing in on her, confining, suffocating. As soon as she passed the wooded gate, she broke out in a dead sprint. Running blindly. Gone.. Gone.. Gone.. It didn’t matter where. Anywhere else would be better.

When she found a rock, which perched out over the ocean. It satisfied her need for isolation. She sat and stared at nothing in particular. Watching the morning turn to midday, and watching the sun falling past the horizon. Mindless tears falling down her cheeks. 

It was well into the night when Beast had tracked her down and came up behind her, pushing his side against her back. He rested his giant head on her shoulder; its weight pulling her slightly off balance. He made a sympathetic noise. 

His presence was a healing salve to her wounds. She felt a certain kinship to the large animal she couldn’t quite place. Turning her head, she pressed her nose into his long fur. He was soft and a few strands of his silver coat tickled her nose when she inhaled his scent deeply. He smelled salty from the sea wind, with hints of burning wood and wet forest. It was comforting. 

They sat together, for a while. Neither of them making a move to leave. Until a few stray drops announced the upcoming storm. 

Beast lifted his head and started nudging her, persuading her to stand up and presumably head back to camp.

She obliged. In the time spent on the rock face she had buried her sadness and locked up her anger. That wasn’t important now. She had a goal and nothing else mattered. Determination gave strength to her step. She would fix this, period.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading:) Please let me know what you think!
> 
> If you want to find me on tumblr at GrumpyKitten

**Author's Note:**

> Again, thank you so much for reading.
> 
> Please let me know what you think! I'm not yet very experienced in writing (at all, not just fanfic), so constructive criticism is always appreciated :) I would love to get better.
> 
> I hope I caught all the typo's and possible grammar mistakes, but if you happen to stumble on them let me know and I'll change them immediately^^
> 
> A few more chapters are almost finished (they just need some polishing) so expect updates pretty soon.


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